What She'd Never Tell: The Story of Michonne
by AngelaRB
Summary: Michonne was a regular young mother living in a small, quaint town when her life went to hell. This is what happened. Of course, it's not REALLY what happened because I'm unfortunately not a writer on TWD, but you know...
1. Chapter 1

Her name was Charlotte.

A lot of people in the hole in the wall neighborhood where Michonne had lived most of her life wondered why she named her daughter such a traditional name. Many of them also scoffed at her choice to go away to college years earlier, so the fact that she named her child after the author Charlotte Bronte probably would have caused more questions than Michonne felt like answering. She just told people "because it's a good name" and left it at that.

On the day where her world went to hell, Michonne felt extraordinarily happy. She had a day off from the small law office in town where she worked as the sole paralegal. She was sitting on the porch of the little house that she rented with her boyfriend of five years, Gerald. The sun was shining, she was reading a book while sipping on the best glass of sweet tea she'd ever had, and every so often grinned at Charlotte who was sitting on the steps playing with one of her dolls.

Michonne remembered chuckling with wonder that any child of hers would like baby dolls. When she was nearly two, as Charlotte was, she was playing with big yellow toy dump trucks, He Man action figures, and water pistols.

She felt perfectly safe. Everyone in the neighborhood had heard of the odd illness going around in Atlanta, but that was almost fifty miles away. Things like that didn't happen out there in the country.

It must have been around noon when she felt the familiar vibrate of her cell phone in her back pocket. It was Gerald, who was working in nearby McDonough for a couple of days on a big construction job. "Hey babe, good day?"

"Michonne," She immediately knew something was wrong. Gerald never said her name unless something was wrong. "Babe, it's real bad."

"What is it?" Michonne stood up, which caused Charotte to walk up to her and tug at the leg of her pants.

"It's here. The sickness. It happened so suddenly. I was in one of the trailers eating my sandwich, and O'Neil… or something that looked like O'Neil… Dammit!" Gerald winced in pain, and Michonne could tell he was in agony.

"Gerald, baby, what happened?" She picked her daughter up and cradled her to her chest with her free arm. Charlotte started to whimper, and Michonne wished she'd stop because she'd make her start crying too.

"I got bit. The asshole bit me. Took a big chunk out of my arm. SHIT!" There was growling in the background. Growling. "What the hell… there's more!"

"GERALD! What's going on? It sounds like animals." Michonne imagined him in a trailer surrounded by bloodthirsty wolves, and her skin went cold.

"They are animals. They aren't human, but they're my crew. My boss… everybody. SHIT!" Michonne heard a loud growl as if it was right near Gerald's phone. "Get outta here! NO! Dammit, NO! Michonne, baby, take Charlotte in! This is too close to you! Shit! NO NOOO NOOO NOOOOOOO!"

Michonne was grasping the phone so tightly that she thought it would shatter in her hands. She was so intent on figuring out what was happening to Gerald that she didn't even realize that she was shouting into the phone GERALD GERALD GERALD over and over and over again as Charotte screamed and cried. He went silent. She continued to call for him, but all she could hear on the line was that horrible growling. It sounded like something out of a nightmare about the depths of hell.

The phone went silent.

It was too quiet. Everything around her was too quiet.

With a heart beating so fast that she was convinced it would pop out of her chest at any moment, Michonne held Charlotte even closer to her and ran across the street. Gerald had their only vehicle and she needed a car so she could go find him. Mrs. Eads across the street was the only person in the neighborhood that she knew for a fact would be home. She was over eighty, and had a nearly brand new Cadillac parked in her driveway.

"Mrs. Eads! MRS. EADS!" She must have knocked 100 times, and nobody came to the door. Michonne felt like she was in another world where everyone had vanished but her and Charlotte. The old lady never left her house. Where did she go?

"Hey, girl."

She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of the male voice behind her. Michonne quickly turned around and saw a man that she'd never seen before. He was young… probably between 21 and 25. He was standing about fifteen feet away, right behind her.

"Whatcha hollerin about?"

Never one to trust strangers who just appear out of nowhere, Michonne ignored him and tried to walk back toward her house. He stepped in front of her to block her way. "Don't be rude, girl. I asked you what you were hollerin about?"

"Get out of the way." If Michonne hadn't been holding Charlotte she would have kicked him the groin and ran.

"That's no way to be, girl. The world's gone to shit. I'm just tryin' to be friendly. Me and Travis started walkin almost a month ago when the weird shit started happenin'. We haven't seen a pretty woman in a while who wasn't rotting."

Michonne looked down at the hands of the stranger. He was holding a bat. There was blood on it. Before she could even give it another thought, Michonne ran across the street to her front door with her daughter in her arms.

The stranger was right behind her.

She made it to the door, threw it open, and slammed it behind her with a quick turn of the deadbolt. Michonne thought everything was okay.

Another young guy, who must have been the one the other guy called Travis, was in her living room holding a gun.


	2. Chapter 2

A thousand thoughts went through her mind in a millisecond.

"Why didn't you just go to work and take Charlotte to the babysitter?" "Why'd you have to go next door and bang on the old lady's door?" "Why didn't you just put Charlotte down and tear that guy's eyes out with your bare hands?"

None of those thoughts mattered anymore.

"Goddamn, you are a cute one." Travis was tall, thin, and his skin was the color of coffee with lots of cream in it. He would have been handsome if the look in his eyes didn't scream anything other than predator. "The old bitch wasn't any fun, but she had a lot of nice shit in her house."

"Take anything you want. I have a little money. Just leave us alone."

Travis took a few steps toward Michonne, and she sucked in her breath and held Charlotte even closer to her. She was afraid she'd crush the child, but Charlotte wasn't making a sound. It was as if she knew something bad was happening. "Nah... nah, that's not how it works. It's the end of the world, baby. Money doesn't matter anymore. The law doesn't matter anymore." He leaned over to look Michonne directly in the eyes. "It's time for men like us to go full animal, sweetheart. There aren't going to be a lot of real life people left before too long."

There was a loud crash from the dining room that Michonnew was pretty sure was the sliding glass door that led to her back yard. The nameless guy who had confronted her outside had found his way in too.

Travis called out to him. "Kevin! What the fuck, man? Had to make an easy way for them to get in?"

"Fuck off, there's a fence."

He looked back at Michonne and flashed a huge grin. "Nice. Well, it's time to let go of the kid for a little while."

"Don't touch her."

Travis's grin became grotesquely huge. "You got no choice, baby. No choice. Get her, Kevin."

Kevin lunged toward Michonne and Charlotte, and it was that moment where the child began to cry. Michonne fought them off as best as she could. She got in her fair share of fights as a kid, but she'd decided to get past her rather colorful past years ago to become a civilized grown ass woman who didn't do things like that. Travis was right, thought. At that moment in time, she had no choice. Charlotte was screaming. Michonne was kicking and screaming and spitting at them. She couldn't fight them off.

Kevin got his foul hands on her child, and Travis grabbed Michonne by her hair. "Come on, baby. You'll like it. May be the last time you get to do this." He dragged her upstairs to hers and Gerald's bedroom, threw her on the bed, and did things that she would not speak of ever again. Her mind went to another place. A black, timeless place where Charlotte wasn't screaming, this monster wasn't violating her, and that the world was okay. Gerald hadn't made that awful call that sounded like he'd been ripped apart by animals. These guys didn't exist. Charlotte was safe and warm with her mama. Yes. Yes. This wasn't hapening. It wasn't. It wasn't.

When it was all over, Michonne couldn't move. Every inch of her being on the inside and out was in agonzing pain. She wanted to kill this prick who was looking at himself in the mirror on top of her dresser like he was a stud who'd just conquested a loose girl at a nightclub.

She could not move.

Then she remembered something.

Michonne was previously rather sure that she had no weapons in the house. She didn't want a gun since Charlotte was born. The only thing she had, she thought, were the knives in the kitchen.

She was wrong, though.

Gerald was an avid collector of Japanese stuff. Movies, posters, books... he loved it all. His prized possession was an Ebay purchase he'd recently paid too much money for that was hanging above his DVD collection in his "man room."

It was a katana with a white handle that was sharper than any blade she'd ever seen.


	3. Chapter 3

She didn't have time to come up with a plan right away. Second after Travis left the bedroom, Kevin appeared at the edge of the bed with still crying (but alive... she was alive... she'd take her crying baby any day as long as she was alive) Charlotte in his arms.

"Look at your mama, kiddo. Don't she look sad?" Kevin turned back to face Michonne. "You wanna hold her, girl?" Kevin hovered the child above Michonne's battered body, and she wanted to scream when Charlotte reached her arms out to her.

"Yes."

"Well, you CAN'T! This is not a world for little kids, bitch. What in the fuck are we gonna do with the two of you, other than the fun stuff?"

Michonne remained silent. She was mapping out the route from that room to Gerald's man room. All she had to do was leave the bedroom, turn left, and walk about fifteen steps. It was at the end of the long hall, right next to the half bathroom. The sword was about three steps in the room, above Gerald's DVD shelf. She could be there with it in her hands in less than ten seconds if she could figure out a way that would keep Charlotte safe.

Travis re-entered the room. He looked almost... afraid. He looked at Kevin and said something that Michonne wouldn't fully understand until later. "You didn't get her brain, dipshit."

That same look of near fear came over Kevin's face. "Fuck. Shit. What should we do?"

"She's still in the house, so nothing yet. Glad you didn't smash the back door like you did here." Travis slapped Kevin on the head and exited the room as swiftly as he did in the first place.

"All right, Miss Thang." Kevin, still holding Charlotte, sat down on the bed. "Me and Little Miss Thang are going to be right out there." Michonne winced, and tried to get up. Neither of these animals would do anything to her baby. She'd rip out their guts with her bare hands and feed them to them if they ever tried. Kevin seemed to understand the look she gave him, and put his free hand on her shoulder to press her back down on the bed. "Calm down. Kids aren't our style." Even the pressure on her shoulder was agonizing.

Kevin left with Charlotte still in his arms, and Michonne realized that now was the time to act. She slowly stood up, wincing the entire time, and looked out her bedroom window. She saw Travis, with his gun, hovering outside of Mrs. Eads house. What was he waiting for? It sounded like they'd been in her house for god knows how long without anyone realizing it, and they'd killed her.

What was going on over there?

Moments later, she heard the same kind of loud howl that she'd heard on Gerald's phone when he called. It was like an animal, but not quite...

Then, Travis threw the old lady's front door open and something that could only be described as Mrs. Eads resurrected body ran out of the door making that horrible animal sound. Travis shot her directly in the forehead, and she fell.

The sickness had made it to Michonne's little, unassuming neighborhood.

Michonne didn't have time to think about what she'd just seen. She'd figure it out later. She always figured things out. Slowly inching toward the door so that the floor wouldn't creak, she cracked her closed bedroom door open a fraction of an inch and looked out into the hallway. Kevin was standing on the edge of the stairs looking over the railing toward her front door. Travis would be there in a few moments.

She'd have to go through him to get to Gerald's sword, and she'd have to do it now. Thankfully, Kevin had put Charlotte down and she was sitting on the steps.

Michonne put her hand on the door, and got ready to do what she had to do. She was going to try to push him off the side of the railing onto the floor below him.


	4. Chapter 4

Michonne took a deep breath to clear her mind.

She'd only have one shot at this. Run toward him, grab his legs, lift as hard as she could, and toss him over the side. It sounded a lot easier than it would be, but Michonne was strong and Kevin wasn't a big guy.

Then, as he recovered from whatever injury he'd get from the action (hopefully he'd land on his head and break his neck), Michonne would grab the sword from the other room so she could get between the two bastards and her little girl. If it went as planned, it would take less than a minute.

"Don't look over here, baby." Michonne tried to put the thought in Charlotte's head with her mind. "Keep looking straight ahead."

Michonne slowly opened the door, and sighed silently when it didn't squeak. She took another deep breath, and ran toward Kevin.

Before she could lean down and get her hands on his legs, the front door flew open and Travis appeared downstairs. Michonne kept running. It had to get done. It had to. Get the bastard. Shit, maybe he'd fall on Travis and she'd be able to off both of them. Run. Run.

Gunshots rang throughout the house. He was shooting at her. Travis was actually shooting at her. Who cares. Get this done.

Michonne got her hands on Kevin legs, and lifted with everything she had left. She didn't even know if she'd been hit.

It didn't matter.

He had his hands on her hair. He was fighting her. Travis was running up the stairs. Do it do it do it do it.

Travis put her in a headlock, but it was too late.

She'd done it.

Kevin had tumbled over the side of the railing, and oh hell yes, he wasn't moving. Travis pulled her back toward the bedroom as he used his free hand to add new bruises to the ones he'd already put on her body. Michonne didn't care. The other fucker wasn't moving.

Her triumph was cut short, though. Before Travis got her back into the bedroom, Michonne's eyes moved down toward the top of the stairs. There was a pool of blood. It was growing. Her little girl wasn't moving either.

Michonne started to scream. She couldn't hear the sound coming out of her mouth, but she knew that it must have been deafening. Travis knocked her on the ground and put the gun to her throat.

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up! Do you see what you did? Do you see it? YOU did that! YOU! Just wait until you really see what you've done."

Travis pulled her into the bedroom and left her on the floor, curled up into a little ball and wailing to nobody in particular.

"NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO. Maybe it wasn't so bad. She was okay. She was okay."

Michonne laid there like that for what felt like hours. Travis had locked the door of the old room behind her, so there was no way out. The house, the world, EVERYTHING... it was all too quiet. Once the sky began to look a little dark, Michonne normally began to hear people coming home from work and school. She'd hear children playing in their yards, men mowing the grass, and people heading out again to go to the grocery store or the pharmacy.

Today she heard nothing.

Where was everyone?

She finally decided that maybe she'd died. Maybe she got the mysterious illness, she'd died, and this was hell. Michonne was cursed to live in a hell with a couple of monsters who wanted to terrorize her, where she had no idea what was going on with her baby, and she was nearly certain Gerald had been killed by monsters.

"That's pretty silly, babe."

Michonne squinted her eyes, and nearly lost her mind when she saw Gerald sitting cross legged on the floor next to her. "You survived? Oh baby, go help Charlotte."

"I can't. I wish I could. I'm not me anymore, babe."

"What happened to you?"

"Something bad. When you see what's really going on out there, don't think of me that way. Remember me like this. I love you."

Michonne reached out to try to touch him. Her fingers touched nothing but the air next to her. "I couldn't protect her. I can't protect her now. What should I do?"

"You tried your best. You'd better survive, m'love. You had damn well better survive. You're the strongest person I know. You can beat this. It's only going to get worse out there, and you can beat it. The first thing you have to do is survive this, and keep your wits about you. You're about to see something no mama should ever have to see."

With that, he was gone.

Moments later, Michonne heard a light scratching at the door.


End file.
